Tied Up
by La Caterina
Summary: Relationship problems for Guy and Catrine explode as the Sheriff and his followers travel to York for a summit, and along the way, outlaws capture Guy. Based on "A Hero's Prologue" and occurs some time after "The Marshal."
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: Another sequence between Guy and Catrine. And this time, their relationship is under stress. Thank you, the Sheriff for being excellently devious and divisive. Takes place around the same time as "The Executioner and The Marshal," and is also based on "A Hero's Prologue."_

_Enjoy and R&R :D_

_

* * *

_

"Ah good!" the Sheriff smiled as the doors to the Great Hall opened with a creak. "The Gisbornes are here. Thank God for that."

Guy walked up to the Sheriff who sat in his chair at the other end of the hall; Catrine followed a few paces behind, striding quickly to catch up to her husband. A strange man in orange-checkered livery stood facing the Sheriff, and on hearing the footsteps approaching, he spun around.

"Who are they, my lord Sheriff?" the young man asked, his bright blond hair mussed and dirty from travel and his face lined by blonde stubble. "This message is only to be entrusted to you."

"Oh, well, don't worry your pretty little head about that. Let me introduce you all," the Sheriff jumped from his seat and began walking slowly to where the three of them stood. "Sir Guy of Gisborne and his lovely wife Lady Catrine," he said with a flourish of his hand, "allow me to present to you Sir Mathew of Rookwood." The Sheriff smiled and crept closer to Guy, "He's the _you_ from the town of York."

Guy's eyes narrowed in confusion and glanced over Sir Mathew, "What do you mean?"

"I'm the lieutenant of the Sheriff of York," the young man turned to face Sir Guy and took two steps closer. "And I find your lack of control here an indignation, sir."

Guy scowled, "What do _you_ mean?"

The Sheriff took a step between the two men, his hands clasped behind his back, "Well, apparently, Sir Mathew has fallen prey to Nottingham's increasing annoyance." He turned towards Sir Mathew with a familiar twisted smile on his face, "Turns out Sir Mathew was no match for a band of outlaws hiding out in Sherwood. They took his money and his weapons, and even the mighty Lieutenant of York could do nothing to stop them."

Guy smirked at the Sheriff as Sir Mathew clenched his fists in anger, his composed face beginning to twitch under the Sheriff's insult. "Not all men are capable of handling our outlaws, Sheriff. It's something that a Nottingham man just knows how to deal with," Guy gloated, crossing his arms as he spoke.

"Well," Sir Mathew answered, "I would argue, Sir Guy, that even you don't know how to deal with them, otherwise they wouldn't even be a problem, now would they?"

His lips drawing in a sneer, Guy stepped forward, his leather gloves squeaking as he clenched his own fists.

At that moment, Catrine inserted herself between the two men. "Gentlemen," she said with a slight shake of her head, "this is no way to create a good impression in front of a lady." Catrine curtseyed to Sir Mathew, "Now, my lord, you said you carried an important message? Though, indeed I'm surprised the outlaws didn't see fit to remove it from you as well," Catrine smirked, extending her hand for Sir Mathew's message.

Mathew looked at her hand with disgust, "My lady, the reason that they didn't steal it is because the message is all up here," he said quietly as he pointed to his head. He turned to face the Sheriff who stood in front of his chair once more. "My lord Sheriff, I bring you a summons from my master, the Sheriff of York. A summit has been declared for all the sheriffs north of Nottingham to be held in the fair city of York. Prince John's agent will decide each shire's tax quota for the northern shires. You have three days time to arrive in the city, or else suffer the consequences of disobeying the Prince's agent."

The Sheriff gave a weak smile, "Of course, Sir Mathew. We will leave tomorrow morning. Now run along to York, my young man."

"On the contrary, my lord," Sir Mathew gave a deep bow, "it's my duty to accompany you to York for the summit." He straightened and looked at Guy and his wife, "And I believe I am owed one sword, one dagger and 200 crowns for my unlucky encounter in your forest."

Guy spun to look at the Sheriff. The Sheriff's face twitched as he shooed everyone away, "Yes, go Gisborne. Go give the man what he wants."

Bowing slightly, Guy began striding quickly out the door with Catrine by his side and Sir Mathew close behind, his spurs clacking against the stone floor.

"A moment if you will, Lady Gisborne," the Sheriff called before the group left through the door. Guy gave to an abrupt halt and turned to look at Catrine, his grey eyes searching for her reaction. She shrugged and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. Guy huffed as he shut the door behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

"Now, Lady Gisborne," the Sheriff began slowly pacing before his chair, along the elevated platform.

"Yes, my lord Sheriff?" asked Catrine as she walked forward, crossing her arms over her chest.

The Sheriff stopped moving and turned to face her, "Oh, don't stand like that, Catrine. You look too much like your husband."

Catrine laughed and changed her stance.

"Now," the Sheriff continued to speak and to pace, "this summit is important. The Prince will know which shires are most loyal, which are rich and which are poor. Our impression is important, Lady Gisborne." The Sheriff stopped and sat in his chair. "As the excellent schemer that you are, my dear, I want you to help me construct our impression."

"I do not understand you, my lord," Catrine shook her head.

"I think it would be rather obvious. If our retinue for this summit appears to be extravagant and wealthy, then the Prince will think our shire rich and demand higher taxes from us. I'd really rather not have the Prince digging his claws into _my _taxes, so I want his agent to believe our shire to be poor. Now, my cunningly devious darling, how do we accomplish this?" The Sheriff asked with a smile on his face, pressing his fingertips together and resting them on his lips.

Catrine tossed her head and ran her fingers through her hair, staring at the stone floor of the Great Hall. She looked up at the Sheriff, "At this summit, will we be expected to bring tribute?"

"Of course, my lady. That's what happens at a _summit,"_ the Sheriff's voice was agitated as he rolled his eyes at her.

Catrine narrowed her eyes at the Sheriff, "Then the answer is a simple one, my lord. Bring less tribute than demanded, and more money will line your own coffers. We will travel with few guards, if any, since the fewer people we bring indicates that we cannot afford to bring more." Catrine began to pace a bit herself, "And… we must make sure that our wardrobes for the summit are less than fashionable. You could even leave your luxurious mantle behind, Sheriff, and substitute one made of rabbit fur rather than ermine."

At this suggestion, the Sheriff looked disgusted at the idea, "Oh, really. Not my ermine…" he whined.

Catrine laughed and crossed her arms again, "Well, how convincing do you want to be, my lord?"

The Sheriff huffed angrily, "Alright, alright! You win, my lady. I knew this plotting would be to your suiting." He stood up and walked to where she stood, leaning in to her face. "My dear, you always were the intelligent one in the Gisborne family, and your beauty almost surpasses your cunning brain," he smirked, "We all know which one of you really controls the relationship. I'll give you a clue, it's not your husband."

Catrine smile faintly at these words, "I thank you, Sheriff?"

"As you should, my lady. Strong women like you fall prey to overbearing men too often in this world."

Catrine curtseyed, "I shall see to the preparations for our departure."

"Yes, you _do _that Lady Gisborne," he said watching her turn to leave. "Oh, and one more thing," he watched her pause, "no guards on this journey. I believe the four of us is sufficient. One sheriff and… three… lieutenants," his voice quivered with happiness as he saw Catrine straighten at his last words.


	3. Chapter 3

All the way to the armory, Guy tried to ignore every word that came out of Sir Mathew's mouth. He wouldn't shut up about York's methods for tax collecting, or their public executions or their dungeons and how far superior everything was in York. Guy paused to unlock the door to the armory and felt Sir Mathew's hand on his shoulder.

"You know, Sir Guy, it seems to me that everything here is done purely by brute strength, no sense of finesse, no hint of intelligent planning," Mathew smiled at Guy.

Guy pushed the door open, letting Sir Mathew pass before him into the room. "Well, Sir Mathew, looks can be deceiving."

"Yes… well all I'm saying is that your whole system here seems, well… primitive. For instance, how many prisoners do you execute each week?" Sir Mathew asked with an arrogant smile on his face, eyeing the wall lined with swords and daggers of different sizes and weights.

Guy shrugged and turned to the sword-lined wall beside him. He picked up an antique looking sword, one he never would choose for himself, old and dull in the blade. "I guess that would depend on how many prisoners we arrest each week," he answered, offering Sir Mathew the sword.

A grimace appeared on Mathew's face as he held the old sword in his hand, testing the balance of the blade. "Now, that's where you demonstrate how primitive you are. Numbers and patterns, Sir Guy, that's where true advancement is now a days." Sir Mathew laughed as he looked up at Guy, "Mathematical figurations and patterns hold true power, or so says the Greek philosopher and mathematician Pythagoras. But I wouldn't expect a trained fighter and warrior to understand that; it's far too intellectually demanding for your strong-armed ways here in Nottingham."

Sir Mathew began swinging the blade through the air to test its weight, "In York, we have a system of execution based on patterns, corresponding with the gravity of the crime. It's all so complicated, and I can see I'm boring you just by beginning to explain." Sir Mathew lunged towards Sir Guy, point of his sword aimed right towards his heart.

Guy didn't flinch. Instead he drew his own sword, parrying the lunge from the side and sending Sir Mathew's blade spinning to the floor with a clatter. "You were saying, Sir Mathew?" Guy asked with a smirk drawn over his face.

"My apologies, Sir Guy," Mathew responded with a bow, "I did not mean to… bore you."

Withdrawing his blade, Guy moved to another wall, picking a dagger at random and tossing it to the floor beside Sir Mathew's sword. "I believe we are through here. Now," he said moving towards the door, "my men will show you to your room."

Sir Mathew followed, "But Sir Guy, what about the money I am owed?"

Guy grimaced in suppressed anger and grabbed the door handle once Sir Mathew left the armory, slamming the door closed. "You will get it when it is convenient. Now, your room, Sir Mathew," Guy growled and walked away, leaving three of his men and Sir Mathew in the dimly lit hall.

Anyone he passed in the castle corridors knew not to speak with him; Sir Guy was in one of his moods.

* * *

_Author's Note- a word on Pythagorus: His theories and philosophies really were the obsession of the Middle Ages, and they formed the basis of pretty much everything from music to architecture to science to law. _


	4. Chapter 4

The door to the treasury already lay open a crack as Guy walked up to it, surprised to hear his wife's voice echoing through the hall. Guy paused just outside the door, listening through the opening.

"You heard me, 1000 crowns in a strong box, by order of the Sheriff. We leave for York at first light, and it better be ready for us long before then, understand?"

"Well, my lady," the treasurer's deep voice answered, "Only the Sheriff or your husband can request a sum that great. I'm sorry."

A loud thud echoed in the hall, the sound of fist pounding wooden table. "I am Lady Gisborne," Catrine's voice becoming a growl. "And the Sheriff has put me in charge of this planning. So, you will do exactly what I say."

"My lady, I'm just obeying orders here…"

Guy pushed open the door, laughing as he saw his wife, leaning forward with both hands on the table, staring down the poor treasurer who cowered behind the table.

"Give her the money," he said walking over to Catrine. She stood rigid in place, a hard smile on her face. Guy pecked her on the cheek, then turned to the treasurer, "or rather, give _me_ the money. I will see it properly guarded over night."

"Yes, my lord Gisborne," the treasurer replied instantly, standing and walking into the back corners of the treasury. The jingle of money resonated through the room as Catrine stared intensely at Guy.

Guy smirked and wrapped his arms around her, "Oh, Catrine."

Catrine pushed him away, "No. Don't _Catrine_ me. Don't touch me."

Guy looked down at her, his eyes clouded by confusion and anger, "What are you doing?"

"Doing what I want to, doing what the Sheriff asked me to. _I_ plotted for the Sheriff, _I_ planned how to present ourselves at the summit so as to deceive the Prince's agent, _my _intellect was what the Sheriff wanted to figure this all out, so _I_ will personally see to everything for my plan. And I don't need my overbearing husband getting in my way." She began walking out of the treasury.

Guy followed her out of the room, grabbing her arm and pulling her to a stop. "What do you mean, 'overbearing husband?' When have I ever been remotely overbearing towards you, except when you interfere with my work? You forget which one of us is actually the Sheriff's lieutenant," he growled, clutching her arm tighter. "And I won't have my wife doing my job in my place," his voice raspy with fury and his grey eyes shined in the dim light.

Catrine shook his hand off her arm, forcing it away with her other hand, "At least the Sheriff appreciates my intelligence. _He_ rewards me for my brain. When have you even thanked me for getting us to this point, to this power in our lives? Without my cunning, my planning, you'd still be exiled in France—powerless, landless, and alone."

Guy sneered and began walking towards her, staring at her as she receded before him, backing her against the wall. "At least I might have married a wife that actually behaved like one. A wife that spun, and weaved… and bore children," Guy snarled in her ear, pressing his fist into her lower stomach.

Catrine looked to the ground, her lip twitching in anger and resentment, "You're just projecting your wounded pride on me. And still, you can't bring yourself to thank me for everything I've done for you," she grabbed his fist from her and clenched it hard, pushing him away from her. She quickly walked away from the wall and out of Guy's reach.

Guy snarled and lunged forward, grabbing her arm again, "You may be smart, my dear," he spun her around to face him, "but I'm still much… much stronger." His arm flew through the air, the backside of his hand meeting her cheek with a smack.

She made no noise in reaction, only a heavy breath escaped Catrine's mouth. She stared back at him, meeting his cold gaze. Straightening her dress, she walked quickly away from him and into the treasury once more.

Standing in place, Guy shook his head. He heard Catrine's voice again from the room.

"Where is my strong box?"

"I have it here for Sir Guy, my lady. He said… hey, wait!" the treasurer cried out.

"Thank you, I will see that my husband gets exactly what's owed to him," Catrine answered quietly.

Her footsteps grew louder, then the door opened once more. Catrine stepped out in the hall and turned to face Guy, still standing rigid in the same place. She stared at him for a moment with the heavy strong box in her hands, tossed her hair aside, then walked away down the hallway.

Guy clenched his jaw, watching her outline grow smaller and smaller and finally disappear around a corner. She really outdid herself this time, staring him down and showing no fear. Grabbing his head in his hands, Guy walked the other way. His anger burned inside him; she had already stolen his job and now pleased the Sheriff with talents he knew he didn't have. And he couldn't allow that. He had to make her, force her, to remember her place.


	5. Chapter 5

_Author's Note- The next scene opening with Guy references chapter 29 from "A Hero's Prologue" specifically. But the essence of the scene reads fine without it. However, if you seek clarification--and a more... intense... sequence of scenes-- I refer you to that section of my other story ;) _

* * *

His pride gnawed at his insides. Guy paced back and forth in the bedroom, waiting for Catrine to come in. Looking out the window, Guy remembered the similar anger, the identical resentment he felt towards Catrine before—the one time she made him look like a fool before the Sheriff. She had disobeyed him and the Sheriff, foiling their plans by acting on her own against the traitorous spy, Sir Clifford Rodham. And now she threatened to slip out of his control once more.

That night, after taking his belt to her back, he had promised himself to never again treat her like that. But Catrine seemed different now, different just today. Something inside her, driving her, was not there before in the woman he loved and married. Almost like a poison that tainted her and changed her. The woman he loved supported him, worked along side him and acted out of her love. Now it seemed different. She competed with him, outwitted him and acted selfishly, as if she forgot her love for him.

He had to stop it, had to remind her of his power. And remind her how much they loved each other. Guy took a deep breath. He had been insulted all day, by Sir Mathew, by the Sheriff, and to have his wife insult him was the final straw. She knew better.

Guy sat himself in a chair by the fireplace and sighed, replaying their fight in his mind. He really did love her intelligence, and he needed her beside him. But sometimes, he wished she would be more… normal, wishing that, every now and then, he could come home to Catrine, waiting for him with open arms. Yet sometimes, the only way he would ever survive working for the Sheriff was because of her love and strength by his side.

But now, for some reason he didn't understand, she was using her strengths against him, stealing his place instead of helping him.

He would wait, all night if he had to; he had to remind her of her place and of her love for him.

Hours passed by, and still Guy waited. Catrine did not come to bed that night.

###

Catrine spent the night alone in the stables, sitting on the strong box buried deep in a pile of hay. She knew just what Guy intended to do to her in the bedroom, so she simply wouldn't come. Why would she want to be thrashed around, beaten and then forced to let him have his way? She laughed to herself, "And he still doesn't consider himself overbearing. Ha!"

She nestled back into the warm hay, feeling the wood of the strong box digging into her back. Thinking back on their fight, Catrine gave a slight smirk to herself. She had been scared, terrified of what he might do to her in that hall. And in truth, she was still scared of what was yet to come. But at least she made herself meet his cold gaze for once. After this mission, she hoped, Guy would appreciate what she was capable of and value her intellect. Just like the Sheriff.

"Guy," Catrine sniffed in anger, adjusting herself in the hay more comfortably. His pride, his jealousy, his strength. Was it so wrong for her to want to do more? To take on more power and responsibility? She was smart, and the Sheriff knew it and encouraged her. But Guy, she huffed again. Guy would never do the same for her, wanting to suppress her, restrain her. No. This was her turn to be powerful and to lead, her turn to please the Sheriff and show what she was capable of. Guy would just have to wait.

Catrine dozed off, picturing her success at the summit: the Prince's agent convinced by her plan, the Sheriff smiling at her cunning, and Guy's anger becoming admiration for her success. She slept in the hay, a smile curled on her lips.

Movement around the stables startled Catrine from her sleep. She gasped and sat up, rummaging around in the hay for the strong box. Finding it buried there, Catrine peered into the darkness. One candle flame shined in the opposite corner.

Unsure of this intruder, Catrine pulled out her dagger, holding the curved blade's handle tightly in her palm. She crept closer, only to see a flash of orange cloth. She laughed silently to herself and re-sheathed her dagger.

"Can I help you, Sir Mathew?" Catrine asked as she saw him bending over his horse's raised hoof.

He cried out, startled by the intrusion and jolted up to face her. "Ah! Lady Gisborne. How uncommonly rude to surprise people in the dark," his voice still shaking in fear.

Catrine chuckled, "My apologies, Sir Mathew. I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's quite alright. I just wanted to ready my horse for this morning's ride to York. Frankly, I don't trust any of your thickheaded, strong-armed ways here in Nottingham," he answered, continuing to pick his horse's hooves.

"Thickheaded? Strong-armed? Sir Mathew, while I agree with you completely, I believe our servants know how to groom a horse just as well," Catrine commented and began stroking the soft pink nose of the horse.

"You agree with me, my lady? You see how backwards your ways are here?" Sir Mathew set down his pick and grabbed a brush from the ground.

"Completely, my lord. Few men here actually appreciate the subtleties of intelligent planning. Instead of a well-thought-out ruse, a cunning plan that would fool… the King himself… some lesser men insist on their own ways. They value violence and… 'strong-armed' methods… as you put it. They wouldn't admit they were wrong if their life depended on it." Catrine couldn't help but spit out her words in anger, picturing her husband. Thickheaded indeed, she thought.

Sir Mathew's pale face turned towards Catrine in the dim candlelight, his lips curling in a smile, "My lady, I believe I know exactly to what you are referring."

Catrine froze. Had she said too much? Had she given away her plan for the Sheriff to trick the agent? Her mind raced. Sir Mathew could be the only liability that remained unaccounted for, and she had hinted at her plan to this one man. She clenched her jaw, "What do you mean, my lord?"

Sir Mathew laughed, "Why, your thickheaded, warrior husband of course."

"Yes, of course," Catrine laughed, shaking her head, "Sir Guy really doesn't understand the refinement of intelligence as you clearly do."

"I am flattered, my lady," Sir Mathew answered, walking to where she stood, still stroking the horse's head. "As a nobleman, I believe it is my chivalric duty to help a maiden in trouble," he jokingly raised his eyebrow. "Now tell me, if you'd like, what is your trouble, my lady?"

"I do not mean to impose on you, Sir Mathew, but I believe you are a man who would value a woman's intelligence."

Sir Mathew nodded once.

"Well," Catrine continued, choosing her words wisely, "Sir Guy and I fought over my involvement in working for the Sheriff. You see, Sir Mathew, while Sir Guy may be the Sheriff's right-hand man, I am the brains behind his every successful undertaking here. Without me, he would never be where he is today. And in fact, he resents me for my intelligence and won't let me use my power for my own ends. I want my own glory, my own accolades, my own successes, and Guy pins me down…" she shook her head at the image her words conjured up, "…metaphorically. And without me, he wouldn't even be a noble." Catrine heaved a heavy sigh, closing her eyes. She opened them to see Sir Mathew staring back at her, deep in contemplation.

"You know, my lady…" he began quietly, "it seems to me that you haven't considered where you would be without him."

Catrine narrowed her eyes.

"Now, don't misunderstand me," Sir Mathew continued, "I personally believe your husband is thickheaded, but that is my opinion. You, my lady, are in the wrong, and the answer lies in your motives. A wife's place should be by her husband's side. A man and wife support each other in marriage, and they do not out-compete each other for the Sheriff's praise. It is not your place to work against your husband anymore than it is his to work against you."

Catrine looked to the ground, feeling tears of anger and shame flooding her eyes.

Sir Mathew stepped away deeper into the shadows of the stable, "That is my advice my lady, whether you take it or not."

Looking up, Catrine no longer saw Sir Mathew. She shivered in fearful surprise at her loneliness, running back to the pile of hay and digging out the heavy box. Heaving it up, Catrine left the stables, ordering the first pair of guards she saw to take the box to the Sheriff and wake him up for their journey.

She wandered down the corridors to the bedroom where she knew Guy would be waiting. Pressing her ear to the wooden door, Catrine listened for movement in the room. Instead, she heard his familiar deep breathing. She opened the door soundlessly, stealing into the room lit by the dying embers in the fireplace. Guy sat in the chair, head titled backwards, sound asleep wearing only his pants.

Catrine smiled down at him. Thickheaded or not, he was still Guy. She reached to run her fingers through his hair to wake him for their day. But then she looked to his hand, resting on the chair arm towards the fire. His thick leather belt dangled from his fist to the floor.

She inhaled sharply, and her hand froze midair, hovering inches over his hair. The Sheriff's voice echoed through her mind repeating one word: "overbearing." With one quick motion, she withdrew her hand and stormed back towards the door, feeling a scowl forming on her face.

Guy woke to the sound of her footsteps, "Catrine?" he asked. She turned quickly at the door, shaking her head at him. He looked at her, then to his hand holding the belt, letting it fall to the floor as he stood.

Catrine groaned in anger, clutching at her head for even thinking she should apologize. She looked up at him, staring back at Guy's confused gaze, "Get ready. We leave within the hour to put _my_ plan into action."

She slammed the door behind her and ran back to the stables. She would not apologize for his anger and for his wounded pride.


	6. Chapter 6

Guy sat atop his horse, waiting for the others to join him in the courtyard. Anger still ate away at him, mostly anger at himself for falling asleep before she came back, and anger at her for not coming to bed.

The clatter of horses sounded behind him, and Guy turned his horse around. The Sheriff led out on his white mare, the strong box strapped off the back of his saddle. Sir Mathew followed close behind, his impeccably groomed horse's brown coat shining in the early morning light. And Catrine followed last, leading her black mare between the Sheriff and Guy.

Catrine paused to adjust the saddle straps before mounting when she heard a whisper behind her.

"Good morning, Lady Gisborne. Hope everything is going according to your plan," the Sheriff's cooing voice startled her from her thoughts.

Catrine turned, "It should, my lord."

"I'm so incredibly impressed by this plan, I must admit. Look believably poor to be thought poor. Why didn't I think of it?"

Smiling, Catrine simply shrugged and turned to her horse once more, "I'm glad at least _you_ appreciate my cunning and intellect."

The Sheriff paused, sensing Catrine's resentment and hearing it in her voice. He turned to look at Guy, his gaze fixed on his wife with such intensity. Now he understood.

"You know, Lady Gisborne, if we wanted to appear… truly poor… you could ride all the way to York with your husband. Sharing the same horse would create an astonishing impression," the Sheriff taunted through his twisted smirk.

Catrine paused, rigid in place, then she quickly swung herself into her saddle. Staring down at the Sheriff, her voice quivered in suppressed anger, "I'd rather walk all the way to York, Sheriff, than ride with my husband."

Guy heard her spatted words and sniffed in frustration, turning his horse towards the gate, "Let's go and get it over with," he commanded.

The Sheriff chuckled to himself as he mounted his own horse. "And they thought themselves so inseparable," he taunted under his breath.

###

All the way towards Sherwood Forest, Catrine avoided riding alongside Guy, ignoring each look he made towards her. She maneuvered her horse anywhere but next to him. However, the Sheriff made it clear that along the stretch through the forest, everyone must ride by twos to protect the strong box, as per her original plan. Catrine rode deep in thought, trying to figure out how to reconfigure the entourage in any way to stay away from Guy. By the time the trees came in sight, Catrine still had no plan; she gripped her reins tightly in frustration, trying to think of anything to save her.

Then the Sheriff turned around in his saddle, "And now… Lady Gisborne, how do we proceed?" he asked with a twistedly knowing smile on his face.

Catrine ground her teeth, "Two by two. Sir Guy and myself will follow behind to protect the strong box." She heard the Sheriff laugh to himself as he rode his horse beside Sir Mathew who immediately struck up a conversation with him.

Catrine tried to focus on Sir Mathew's voice as he spoke about his sword and dagger and newly filled purse of 200 crowns. But she couldn't ignore the growing sound of hoof beats behind her.

Slowing his horse back to a walk, Guy shot a look at Catrine as she rode beside him. She inhaled sharply again and looked the other way. Perhaps she could ignore him all the way through Sherwood.

She felt a hand on her arm, and Catrine turned to look at Guy. Catrine let an unbidden shudder move over her body under his touch—the very touch half of her craved, even in her anger. Guy's grey eyes looked tired and something else, but Catrine couldn't name it. She knew it wasn't anger. Sadness?

"How long are we going to keep acting this way, Catrine?" he asked, still holding her arm despite the movement of the horses.

"That depends on you, Guy." Catrine shook his hand away and slowed her horse even more, trying to maintain separation from him. She didn't want to let her anger subside, not just yet.

Guy matched her pace. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you can't very well expect me to apologize first, can you," she replied, staring straight ahead, slowing her horse even more and watching as the figures of Sir Mathew and the Sheriff grew even smaller.

Guy scoffed, "And why not? You are out of place, Catrine." Again, he slowed his horse to match her.

"Out of place, or are you just jealous that I'm in _your_ place, that I hold responsibility for once?"

"Exactly, that is not your place. It's _mine_," he growled and shook his head. "Look at me when I'm talking, Catrine," he ordered.

Catrine felt her lip twitch, staring straight ahead still. Then she felt a tug on her reins and her horse came to a stop. Guy grabbed her face, gripped her jaw with his gloved hand, and turned her to face him. He stared into her eyes for a moment, his brow furrowed. "I don't even know you anymore, Catrine. You've changed, over night it seems. And I don't know why."

"Perhaps I've just realized how overbearing you truly are," Catrine sneered as she pushed him away and kicked her horse into motion.

"You keep saying that, why? Where did this thought even enter your mind?" Guy followed.

"The Sheriff, with his ever acute and perceptive mind, mentioned it yesterday. And I have no cause not to believe him, Sir Guy," Catrine looked into the distance, motioning to the Sheriff's tiny figure far ahead on the road.

Scoffing again, Guy stared intently at Catrine. She turned to face him, meeting his disbelieving look. He shook his head, "I should have known," he muttered. Guy turned to stare at the Sheriff, his gaze darkening in anger as he turned back to look at his wife.

"You want reconciliation between us, Guy? Just admit you are too overbearing and that you are sorry for not valuing my intelligence," Catrine replied, her arrogance drawn over her face with a smirk.

In a flash, Guy's gaze became steely once more, "You don't understand what it means to be married to an overbearing husband. Not yet anyway." He watched as Catrine shuddered at his words.

She turned towards him, the beginnings of tears in her eyes. "Guy…" she whispered, watching his face soften. He slowed his horse even more, his grey eyes staring into hers.

At that moment, an arrow cut through the air and pierced his horse's haunch. Guy's horse let out a shrieking whinny as it reared back in pain. Catrine watched in horror, hearing the shouting of men echoing in the trees.

"Guy!" she screamed, her eyes wide in panic. She stopped her horse, still yards away, watching as Guy broke the arrow from his horse and tried to calm it. Nothing helped. The horse reared again, and threw Guy to the ground before it cantered away towards Nottingham.

Catrine turned her horse back towards Guy on the road. The shouts grew closer and closer. Guy drew his sword and turned towards Catrine.

"Go!" he yelled. "Get out of here! Save your precious Sheriff!"

"No," Catrine screamed back, her voice cracking in anguish, kicking her horse to run towards him.

"Catrine! Just obey me for once!" Guy yelled, drawing his dagger as well.

Catrine pulled her horse to a halt, spinning it in a tight circle to turn. A man bigger than any other she had ever seen broke through the forest bracken, running towards Guy with a giant quarterstaff.

The last things she heard before cantering off towards the Sheriff were the metallic sound of blades scraping and Guy, his voice deep and resounding even in the distance, screaming in effort and in pain.


	7. Chapter 7

"Sheriff!" Catrine yelled at the top of her voice, cantering along the road. The Sheriff and Sir Mathew stopped their progress and spun around, confused by Catrine's agitation. Her horse snorted as she reined it in, pulling it to a skidding halt.

Catrine panted, catching her breath, "Sheriff… It's Guy… outlaws came out of the forest… and he was thrown from his horse… too many of them… We have to save him… or else… he could be…" She choked on her breath again.

Sir Mathew sat up straight, staring at Catrine with a slight smile, "So Nottingham's best lieutenant falls prey to his own unruly outlaws. How ironic."

The Sheriff spun his horse around nervously, "Outlaws! Gisborne had to go and get captured by outlaws! Well, outlaws, sheriffs and strong boxes don't mix. Get me out of here!"

Catrine shook her head frantically, "Guy needs our help!"

"We'll send him troops at the crossroads. Now, GET ME OUT OF HERE!" the Sheriff yelled, straining forward in his saddle.

Looking frantically at Sir Mathew for help, Catrine uttered a troubled sob. Sir Mathew said nothing and shrugged. Catrine moved her horse closer to Sir Mathew, sitting right along side him, still begging for his help silently.

The Sheriff stared down Catrine, "You wouldn't want to crack under pressure the first time I put you in charge of something, now would you? You're husband will be fine. Now SAVE ME!"

Catrine sniffed, "Some would say that such a request is… overbearing… Sheriff." With that, she pulled out her curved dagger from her sleeve and leaned over to Sir Mathew beside her.

With a swipe, she cut away Sir Mathew's filled purse of 200 crowns and spurred her horse into a run back down the road. Sir Mathew's horse staggered back from the action, almost throwing its rider off balance.

"Lady Gisborne! Come back here!" the Sheriff yelled after her. But she was already gone.


	8. Chapter 8

Blood pounded in Catrine's ears as she rode with speed back to where she had watched Guy fall. Reining in her horse, she jumped down from her saddle, almost tripping from how quickly she moved. Catrine couldn't catch her breath, her head spun in her anxiety. He had to be near. She had to find him.

Her eyes frantically searched over the ground, looking for his footprints, for any sign of him… for his blood. All she could see was where the earth was disturbed from the fight. But she didn't know what to look for, her frustration growing within her. She let out a scream, releasing her anxiety as she spun around to catch her horse's reins. Something shining in the sun by the side of the road caught her eye. Catrine walked over.

Guy's dagger glimmered back at her, half hidden by a clump of tall grass. The underbrush around had been flattened, as if a body had been dragged over this spot. Her hand shaking, Catrine reached for the blade, cradling its handle in her hands. They had him. And he could be anywhere. Anywhere in this forest. Trapped. Or even… dead.

Catrine's mind raced, shaken by her last thought. Remounting her horse, she set herself to search anywhere and everywhere. Those outlaws couldn't be too far ahead of her. Then she had an idea: if she couldn't find the outlaws, at least they could find her. A lone woman riding through the forest must be ideal prey for such men.

Resolved, Catrine steered her mare off the road, and into the forest, following as best she could where she thought the outlaws had passed through. The brush and grasses had been crushed under something heavy, and Catrine prayed it wasn't Guy's dead body.

Nothing still. The trees only grew thicker and the hills higher. Catrine screamed at the top of her voice, trying to relieve her worry, her anger, and her fear. She caught her breath. Then something rustled from behind a tree, and something emitted a low whistle.

Suddenly, as before, men surrounded her, coming out from behind trees and under bushes. Catrine breathed a sigh of relief, the same giant man she had seen attack Guy earlier now ran up and grabbed the reins from her hands, restraining her horse and pulling it to an abrupt stop.

A scruffy-bearded man with strawberry blonde hair laughed loudly at her, brandishing his club at her, "Right. Now, you know how this goes. You hand us your money and your jewelry and we'll leave you alone."

Catrine's courage grew inside her, and she threw the men around her a smirk, "I don't think that's how it's going to go, not exactly."

"Wow, you must be stupid. Haven't you ever even dealt with outlaws before?"

Catrine laughed a cold sort of cackle, feeling more confident with each passing second.

"Get her down from there, Roy," the giant man ordered with a snort.

Roy stuck his club's handle in his belt and walked up to Catrine's horse, grumbling to himself as all the other men whooped and hollered at the action.

"Hold right there!" Catrine yelled, drawing Guy's dagger from her belt. The men fell silent. Roy froze a few feet from her horse.

"And now, you threaten us. You really don't know anything about outlaws, do you?" Roy grimaced.

"I know too much about you all already. I wanted to be found. And I want to speak with you about a sort of exchange," Catrine's voice faltered at the end of her phrase, but she continued. "I believe you captured my husband on the road not moments ago, and I want to propose an exchange."

Roy threw the giant man a worried glance, his eyes wide in shock, "John? You…uh… you wanna handle this one?"

Catrine's heart sank.


	9. Chapter 9

_Author's Note: annnd, here's the required amount of steaminess (aka, Guy and Catrine's reunion) )_

* * *

The giant man, John, huffed in response and shook his head slowly, staring at Roy.

Roy gulped and turned back towards Catrine, "First, before we tell you where your husband is, tell us what you have to exchange." He nodded at his own words, "Yup, that's how this will work," he added more confident in himself.

Hope rekindled in Catrine heart. He must still be alive, somewhere in this expansive forest. She pulled Sir Mathew's purse away from her belt, the coins within jingling as she shook the leather bag.

"200 crowns, good sirs, for my husband. For my husband, alive."

Roy's eyes grew wide once again, "Two hundred crowns!" He turned to the giant still holding her horse's bridle, "two hundred crowns, John! Good thing you didn't kill him."

A shiver ran down Catrine's spine, her greatest fear almost a reality. She shook it away. "Now, if you want the 200 crowns, you will tell me where my husband is."

Roy practically drooled looking at the full moneybag, "Over the next hill. We dragged him over there since he was knocked out. Tied him to a tree." Roy pointed over towards Catrine's left.

"Show me, and then you'll get your money."

"No, we take the money now," John spoke up, his deep voice shocking Catrine. He took one step over, standing beside her and grabbing the purse from her hands. "He's over there. And now, we go," John answered, motioning for his men to retreat.

Alone again, Catrine kicked her horse into motion, furious that the outlaws left, but that's what you expect from such men. At least she knew Guy was alive. Or at least, she desperately hoped so.

###

Over the hill. Catrine shook her head, riding her horse as quickly as she could around the thick trees. So many trees, and Guy could be tied to any one of them. Finally at the crest of the hill, Catrine pulled her horse to a stop, craning forward to listen for any sound.

Nothing.

She rode her horse slowly, checking every tree she passed down the hill's steep slope, right and left, front and back. Soon, the trees became so dense, Catrine's horse couldn't navigate easily. She dismounted, tying her horse off to a branch nearby. After stroking her mare's neck to calm it down, Catrine walked onward down the steep slope, pushing past branches and treading through thick grass. As the hill leveled off, the trees began to separate more; less undergrowth grew up around the trees. Catrine grew more and more panicked as she passed each tree; she was over the hill and yet she couldn't find Guy.

Frustrated and fighting back tears, Catrine leaned against the large oak right in front of her. Tears began welling up in her eyes, and Catrine reached to her side, pulling Guy's dagger from her belt again. She dug in the dirt in front of her with the shining blade, filled with anger at herself—angry that she didn't fight beside him, angry that she had wasted a day and a night fighting with him.

Catrine quieted her mind, listening to the soft sound of the blade in the dirt, then she picked up a rock beside her, beginning to sharpen the blade with the rock's smooth edge. The scraping sound numbed her mind. Until something moved behind her, something on the other side of the tree.

"Who's there?" a deep voice asked.

Her heart thrilled within her. Guy's voice. Catrine looked at the dagger and the rock in her hand, filled with joyful mischief knowing that Guy was alive and right behind her. She continued to scrape at the blade, louder and faster than before. Standing up, Catrine began to silently move around the tree, still scraping.

Guy's breathing became more audible behind her, "If you're going to kill me, do it quickly," his voice was gruff in frustration and fear.

Catrine laughed as she rounded the tree's girth, "I've already tried to kill you once. On our wedding night. And I don't think I can even try again."

Guy turned to face her voice, standing on the opposite side of the tree, his eyes covered with a blindfold and his hands bound by rope above his head. "C-Catrine?" he stuttered, "How did you find me?"

Laughing again, Catrine dropped the dagger and rock to the ground, removing his blindfold gently and tracing her fingers along his jaw line, "With lots of luck and the help of Sir Mathew's 200 crown-filled purse."

Guy smiled, blinking his eyes to adjust to the sunlight. "Thought I told you to save the Sheriff."

"You did," Catrine smiled, eyeing his bonds above his head, "but I thought that such an order from you was… overbearing, Guy."

"So, is all forgiven between us then?" Guy chuckled, raising his eyebrow.

Catrine stepped closer, feeling all around his head and into his hair, "Not quite yet." Guy winced as she reached around the left side of his head; Catrine felt the swell from where they must have knocked him out. She shook her head sympathetically as Guy sniffed in pain. Standing on tiptoe, Catrine leaned in, kissing the spot gently, feeling Guy's breath on her neck as he kissed her shoulder.

She touched him, smelled him, wanted him. But first, she needed an apology. Breathing deeply, Catrine stepped away, a smirk across her face. With one swift motion, her palm slapped across Guy's left cheek, and Guy choked out a stifled grunt. His blue-grey eyes teared in pain as he turned to look at her.

Smiling, Catrine reached up to his face and wiped away the moisture from under his eyes, "Now everything is forgiven, Guy. I'm sorry I ever listened to the Sheriff's poisoned words in the first place."

"And I'm sorry that I didn't understand," Guy replied. Then he looked above his head at his hands still tied up. "Now that we're reconciled, I think we should be… properly… reunited," Guy's deep voice coaxed.

Catrine chuckled, "I'm not quite done apologizing. I'm sorry I'm smarter, more intelligent and more cunning than you, Guy," she taunted, stepping forward just inches from Guy's body.

Guy craned his neck backwards against the tree, "Forgive me if I don't worship your intelligence every moment of my day. But now, I'd love it if my clever wife figured out how to untie me."

"Oh, I know something you'll love more, Guy," Catrine whispered in his ear as her hands already began wandering over his chest. Her fingers nimbly unhooked the clasps to his leather jacket as Guy leaned forward, trying to kiss her lips just inches in front of him. Catrine chuckled as she leaned out of is reach. She gently traced through the soft fabric of his tunic, slowly moving her fingers towards his waist and lifting the material away from his sinewy muscles.

Finding the ties to his pants, Catrine finally leaned in towards Guy, pressing her lips to his as she slowly unlaced each tie. Her kiss was forceful and hungry after being separated for so long, her passion overflowed as she finally touched and caressed Guy, no longer angry and no longer distanced.

Breaking away from their kiss, Catrine looked into Guy's smoldering eyes as he tried to lean in towards her for more, straining against his tied hands. Catrine relented, her lips meeting his again, feeling his tongue find hers. She pressed into him against the tree, kissing him harder as her hands continued up and down underneath his tunic and pants. "I'm sorry," she whispered breathlessly between kisses.

She felt Guy smirk beneath her lips, "For what, my love?" he replied, his voice gruff with hunger. "For what you've done… or what you're about to do?" he asked as he nipped her lips and chin.

Catrine pulled away entirely, "Both," she replied with a low chuckle. A sense of power flooded Catrine as she looked at Guy, helplessly bound before her. So this must be how he feels, she thought to herself. She chuckled again as she kneeled down in front of him, meeting the hungry look in his eye as Guy watched her every move.

Her fingers ever so lightly traced down his middle as she reached into his pants, pressing her lips to his firm body. She felt Guy shudder under her lips as her kisses traveled lower and lower. Her hands gently removed his cock from his leather pants, softly stroking him as she continued her kisses. He grew hard in her grasp, and she tightened her grip, slowly exploring every inch of him.

Guy's breath came heavily as he leaned his head down over her, her hair stirring gently under each exhale. Then, with a slight sigh, she leaned back, kneeling lower. She took his hardened cock in her hand and first breathed warm air over it, then she began licking him all around, wetting him with her tongue, her hands tracing along his length.

She felt him shudder as she took him in her mouth, circling around his cock with her tongue. Guy moaned as she began to suck on him harder, taking him deeper into her mouth. He leaned his head back against the tree with a pleasured sigh, "I'm so glad that you're sorry."

Catrine looked up at Guy, throwing him half a smirk. Guy inhaled sharply through clenched teeth: Catrine pulled away from him, gently grazing her teeth all along the length of his cock. She bit her lip and chuckled up at him, "I'm not _that_ sorry."


	10. Chapter 10

Orange checkered banners hung everywhere as Guy and Catrine made their way through York's darkened streets. Catrine leaned back against Guy's shoulder and yawned; she was exhausted from the journey and her body ached from sharing the saddle with Guy the entire way.

Warm breath tickled her ear as Guy chuckled, "We're almost there, my love."

"Unfortunately, that means I'm almost there to see the Sheriff again," Catrine replied, and Guy felt her stiffen against him. "He must be furious."

"For coming to save me? I doubt he'll be furious," he turned the horse towards the towering stone castle before them.

Catrine shot him a look, her face almost amused at his comment, but her eyes narrowed in correction.

Guy cocked his head and rolled his eyes, "You're right. He's furious," he conceded with a laugh. "Though I am eternally grateful," his voice no more than a breath against her neck.

"You, my love, are welcome," Catrine whispered back, reaching her hands into his raven hair, the very thing she loved to do most.

They rode in silence to York Castle, passing dozens and dozens of guards that lined the streets, each bearing Prince John's colors on tall banners. Another dozen guarded the castle gate, bearing menacing-looking spears that even made Catrine shiver against Guy's chest.

One guard walked towards them as Guy pulled the mare to a stop, "What is your business here?" he demanded, holding his pointed spear dangerously close.

Guy cleared his throat, meeting the guard's suspicious gaze, "I am Sir Guy of Gisborne, Lieutenant of Nottingham. We are here for the summit."

"I don't believe you, the Sheriff of Nottingham has already arrived," the guard replied, inching the spear closer to both their faces.

Guy huffed, "Look, if you don't believe me, then send for the Sheriff himself. He'll tell you. We were separated on the journey over, that is all."

The guard turned to his men behind him. "Send for the Sheriff of Nottingham," he bellowed through the portcullis.

They waited in silence, afraid that any conversation between them could be thought as conspiring. The guard watched their every move, as though any moment they would draw weapons and storm the castle. After a few moments, the Sheriff walked coolly up to the gate, his grin growing on his face as he saw Guy and Catrine just feet away from him, surrounded by threatening guards.

"Oh, yes, this is my lieutenant, guard. Though I'm deeply surprised to see him here so soon," he chuckled, extending one finger through the bars and pointing at Guy.

The guard looked over to the Sheriff, still disbelieving, "And the girl?" he asked.

The Sheriff shrugged and began to slowly turn around, "Probably just some hussy Sir Guy found. Let her in too, I suppose." He threw a sneer towards Catrine just before walking back into the castle.

Guy found Catrine's hand as the gate opened before them, gently squeezing it. Catrine huffed and tossed her hair, but squeezed his hand in return.

He led the horse into the corner of the courtyard, dismounting and then turning towards Catrine to help her down. Catrine swung her leg around as Guy's hands wrapped around her waist, laughing as he eased her down to the stone pavement. "My lady Gisborne," Guy laughed, "You didn't walk all the way to York."

Catrine turned her head sharply up to face him, "What?" she snapped.

"I believe just earlier today, you said you'd rather walk all the way to York than ride with your husband," he chuckled, placing a kiss on her half-sneering lips. Guy felt her melt into him, her sneer becoming laughter under his kiss. She stepped away, laughing harder than Guy could remember for a long time.

Arm in arm, they walked through the grand entrance of York Castle, all hung in banners and cloths of red and black in honor of the Prince's agent. A door on the other side of the great stone hall hung open a crack, and echoing voices and light spilled out into the hallway. Guy and Catrine walked over and peeked through the door. The Great Hall was bursting with people standing all around in the brightly lit space. And in the corner, they could see the Sheriff broodingly standing still, his hands clasping and unclasping behind his back.

Catrine laughed as they walked into the room, pushing their way towards the back corner and standing silently beside the Sheriff.

"What is going on, my lord Sheriff?" Guy asked, letting go of Catrine's arm and moving just behind the Sheriff.

"Nothing. The Prince's agent is giving some sort of self-important speech about the Holy War or whatever," the Sheriff replied, bouncing up and down on his toes.

"And the tribute, my lord?" Catrine asked, turning herself around to face the Sheriff.

"Tribute is already presented, tax allotments are already being decided by the agent, and I was already reprimanded for not bringing enough," the Sheriff replied, continuing to face forward and crossing his arms. Then he turned suddenly and entirely around, facing Guy. "Three months, Gisborne," he spoke.

Guy shook his head, "I don't understand."

"You're wife is banned from Nottingham Castle for three months, Gisborne. I figure it's punishment enough for the both of you."

"But my lord Sheriff, I only saved Guy from being tied up by outlaws and…" Catrine's voice quivered in emotion as she tried to defend herself.

The Sheriff pressed a single finger over her lips, "You wouldn't want to make it four months now, would you?"

Catrine's hung her head, turning it away from the Sheriff and from her husband. But, she felt Guy grab her hand in his, pulling her closer to him.

Just then, a fanfare echoed through the chamber as men in orange livery filed in, each bearing a folded piece of parchment.

"Ah," the Sheriff spoke, turning around once more, "Here come the tax allotments. Although, I don't expect much mercy, despite your… ingenious planning, Lady Gisborne."

A man in orange livery approached the trio as they stood in the corner, and Catrine smiled seeing Sir Mathew's recognizable face as he handed the parchment to the Sheriff. Sir Mathew dipped his head in greeting to Catrine, "My lady, it's good to see you again, this time… by your husband's side," he flashed her a charming smile.

"But of course, Sir Mathew," Catrine laughed, dipping her head in return.

The Sheriff hastily tore away at the parchment in his hands, turning around to face Guy and Catrine with a broad and toothy smile on his face.

Sir Mathew bowed to the group, "It's been a… pleasure… to observe your operations in Nottingham. I apologize if I've appeared judgmental about your methods." He smiled at the Sheriff, "I had no idea your shire was so poor. My apologies." With that, Sir Mathew withdrew, flourishing his orange cape behind him.

The Sheriff began to cackle deeply, gripping the parchment tighter. Guy grabbed at the parchment, almost ripping it from the Sheriff's hands to see why exactly the Sheriff was so strangely happy.

Guy looked at the parchment, then looked over it again, "Is that really all, Sheriff?"

"Yes, Gisborne! Yes it is!" the Sheriff said excitedly, tearing the sheet from Guy's hands and planting a kiss on it.

"Congratulations to Lady Gisborne, I suppose," the Sheriff spoke, still only able to stare at the paper in his hands.

Guy grabbed her closer, pulling her into a warm and loving kiss. Catrine felt parchment jab into her side, and she reluctantly turned away from Guy.

"Two months, Lady Gisborne," the Sheriff smirked and poked her in the side again with the parchment. "You are banished from the castle for only two months. Now continue with your husband while I go… do something else," he replied with a wave of his hand.

"You are most gracious, Sheriff," Catrine chuckled, returning her attention once again to her husband.


End file.
